Unforgivable
by ManwithaMovieCamera
Summary: After a particularly unnerving Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Hermione is left to console a distraught Neville. A variation on the events which take place after "Moody" teaches the Unforgivable Curses.


**This is my first attempt at a fanfic, let alone a _Harry Potter _one. Any reviews would be much appreciated.**

Neville Longbottom looked out of the stained-glass window, attempting to make sense of the dreadful DADA lesson he had just attended. Seeing the Cruciatus Curse firsthand had been a truly mortifying experience. Neville still couldn't fathom the fact that that very same curse had been used to take his parents away from him. At the same time, he felt a strange sense of relief. He had witnessed the spell firsthand without losing it. He had kept his composure. Yes, he had whimpered. Yes, he had turned as white as a ghost. Yes, he had almost cried his eyes out. But he hadn't.

"Oi, Longbottom! You're not going to run home and cry to your mum, are you? Oh, wait," yelled Malfoy as he made his way down the spiral stairs, Crabbe and Goyle at his sides.

Neville didn't turn to look at them. He couldn't afford to give them the satisfaction of seeing the tears pouring down his cheeks. Fortunately, everyone else was still upstairs. Neville had rushed out the door just as class had ended. It would be a few minutes before anyone else joined him. Malfoy and his cronies had probably rushed downstairs just to torment him.

Neville attempted to reason how the bane of his existence had managed to figure out the truth about his parents. He knew that Lucius Malfoy had once been a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. Perhaps he had told Draco about his days as a Death Eater. Perhaps he had been present the day that Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband had forever damaged his parents' minds. The very thought filled Neville with rage. The young Gryffindor looked up at the image depicted on the stained-glass window. It was the picture of a young man, whose appearance actually bore a great resemblance to Neville's. As a single raindrop worked its way down the image's cheek, Neville returned to his previous state of sadness. The tears flowed down his face without any sign of stopping.

It was at that moment that the fourth-year heard the others approaching from the stairs above.

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you lot: he's brilliant!" Ron insisted, as the remaining students from the double DADA class made their way down to the Great Hall. "He's barking, no doubt about it, but still brilliant!"<p>

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"You cannot possibly be serious, Ronald," Hermione argued, as the two rounded the stairs. "Entirely inappropriate of him, teaching us those spells. What was Dumbledore thinking?"

"I'll say," Harry remarked. "Did you see the look on Neville's fa-"

Before Harry could finish, he was cut off by Hermione, who had quickly placed her arm in front of the boys. Ahead of them, they saw Neville staring out the window with his back turned toward them.

Hermione was the first to act. She briefly looked at the two boys, before turning to Neville with a look of motherly concern on her face.

"Neville," Hermione said in an inquisitive voice, "are you okay?"

Neville didn't respond. He didn't even move an inch. He remained transfixed at the window.

"Can you hear us, mate?" Ron asked.

Neville remained unresponsive.

Hermione turned to her two friends and beckoned them to go on to lunch without her. As Harry and Ron departed, Hermione walked up to Neville, hoping to get a clear look at his face. What she saw caused her to audibly gasp.

Neville looked as though he had been frozen in time. His expression was unchanging. His eyes were a particular gruesome shade of red. A variety of tearstains had left their marks along his cheeks. And his eyes were completely empty.

Hermione calmly put her left hand on Neville's shoulder. Just like that, he broke out of his reverie and turned toward Hermione.

"Hermione," said Neville. He said this plainly, without any emotion. Then, without explanation, he held Hermione's face in his hands, stared deeply into her eyes, and asked her the last question she expected to hear.

"What's it like…to have parents?"

Hermione looked nervously at her fellow Gryffindor, trying to decipher what he was asking. A look of understanding crossed her face, but she still remained unsure how to respond. Finally, she offered her answer.

"It's wonderful. It's absolutely wonderful," Hermione stated. She then looked closely at Neville, hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of his past.

Finally, she asked.

"What happened to your parents, Neville?"

She threw her arm around his back and looked deeply into his eyes. Neville closed his eyes and started to shudder, but then stopped himself. And then he said it.

"They were tortured…about a year after I was born. By two Death Eaters: Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. It was with the Cr-Cru-Cruciatus Curse. They survived, but…they're not themselves anymore. They live at St. Mungo's. I visit them whenever I get the chance. It's nice to see them, but they d-don't even re-remember me."

At that point, Neville slammed his eyes shut and held them like that, as he began sobbing forcefully. The tears slid down his cheeks like miniature flash floods, as his weeping became all the more louder.

Hermione quickly threw her arms around Neville, embracing her in the most nurturing manner imaginable. She held his face against her shoulder and slowly began stroking his hair.

"Let it all out, Neville," she said, as she started patting his back. "Just let it all out."

The two remained like that for nearly ten minutes, with Neville releasing all of the emotions he had bottled up for the past fourteen years. Once he had run out of tears, Neville removed himself from Hermione and looked into her beautiful brown eyes.

"Thanks, Hermione."

"No problem. Here, let's go back to the Common Room."


End file.
